Under the Stars

Chapter #24: Now I Lay Across the Dust-Ridden Floor

Tsukishima wakes up in the middle of the night to his cell phone ringing, the sound dampened by his sleep-muffled senses. He grabs it from his bedside table and flips it open, it's an unknown caller, and he clicks decline with no hesitation. But just as he gets comfortable under his blankets again, it rings once more, and he grabs it again.

It's still an unknown caller, presumably the same one as before. He squints his eyes to study the number, it's his area code, and if they called twice in a row then it must be something important.

He sits up and presses the 'answer' button, "Hello?"
   
His stomach drops as he hears sobbing on the other end of the line, "K-Kei? It's Takako."
   
It's Ms. Yamaguchi.
   
Tsukishima's senses sharpen as anxiety coursing through his veins, "Wh- Is something wrong?"

"Ta-Tada-shi, he- he-
   
"He k-killed himself la-ast night."

"What?!" Tsukishima nearly yells, "No, no no no, that can't be right. He and I...we were just on the phone last night...I thought he was alright..."
   
Ms. Yamaguchi hiccups intermittently as she explains, "He- he overd-osed on his anti-antidepressants, the bot-tle was empty."
   
For a moment, Tsukishima is at a loss for words as the shock slowly settles in, and it hits him all at once, and he screams.
   
He screams at the top of his lungs in hysteria, a scream that warps itself into a violent sob that rips its way through Tsukishima's body. He claps a hand over his mouth but it's too late, he's already fallen down the spiral.
   
He distantly hears the words 'I'm sorry' come from the phone speaker before the door to his room is abruptly opened by Kei's mother, who sees Tsukishima laying in the fetal position in the middle of his bed, his phone right beside him. She picks it up and sits next to her son, placing a hand on his shoulder, and receives the same distressing news. All the while, sobs tear through Tsukishima's throat, making his whole body shake.
   
"I'm so sorry, Kei," she apologizes, her voice wavering.
   
She moves closer to Kei, who then leans up against her. He clings to her as he cries, almost as if he'd literally fall without her support. Tears stream down his face and collect on the blanket below them. His grip loosens and he collapses, his body too weak to do anything but sob. His mother responds accordingly, and begins to rub her son's back soothingly as he grieves.
   
The distress is so extreme that it starts to take physical root, with his chest aching and head pounding. Tsukishima can feel his whole world crashing down. The person that unlocked his emotion and compassion, the one person that he trusted more than anyone else, was now gone forever.
   
He's so devastated and outraged that almost nothing else occupies his mind, with exception of the question of 'why?'. It crashes inside his head just as his cries reverberate around the room, inescapable and seemingly eternal.
   
"Why!?" he shrieks to no one in particular.

He digs his nails into the palms of his hands, trying to do something, anything to deter himself from the emotional agony he feels.

"WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE TADASHI!?"

He sobs even harder, rage starting to settle in. It wasn't fair. Of all people, why did it have to be someone so unique and special? Somebody who put themselves before anybody else, somebody who worked hard at everything they did, somebody who was kind and uplifting.
   
Why did somebody like him have to suffer through a living hell?
   
Why did somebody like him have to tolerate tortuous self-destructing thoughts until the end?
   
Why did it have to be somebody so loving, caring and accepting?
   
Why did it have to be the one person who I trusted with my emotions more than anyone else?
   
"W-why did it have t-o be Tadashi?"

   
Over time, his violent sobs turn into silent tears, his body being too weak and exhausted for them to continue. His forehead shines with sweat and it's soaked through his clothing, which now sticks to his body. His mother still sits beside him, providing the silent physical comfort of letting him know that he's not alone even though the feeling overwhelms him, as well as handing him the occasional tissue. He may not be showing it, but the grief is still tormenting him as he lays unmoving on his bed.
   
Now that his body is fatigued, his mind begins to stir up more questions, thoughts, and most importantly, memories. Almost like a timeline, his brain projects a sequence of events that make his heart ache.